


Competing in love

by Tisaniere



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Camp Counsellors, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-05 17:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tisaniere/pseuds/Tisaniere
Summary: Connor and Tyler meet whilst working at a summer camp. Turns out two very competitive people can't fall in love without a bit of aggro along the way.





	Competing in love

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [PuckingRare2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PuckingRare2018) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
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> we’re both ‘team leaders’/counselors at a summer camp and you may be hot but goddammit my collection of twelve-year-olds are going to beat yours into the dust (not underage please)
> 
> *I don't really know how camps work so this is my best attempt*

**Week 1 -  It begins**

Tyler was way too warm to be standing in his camp-issue blue shirt talking to the flood of kids and parents streaming up the driveway. He had a trail of sweat down his back, his neck was already going red, and he needed to find his water bottle. He tried to shift into the shade but nearly went flying over a pile of abandoned backpacks, so he sidled back into the sun and plastered back on his Welcome To Camp smile. Even after all his years working at summer camps, Tyler never found drop off the most comfortable of experiences. Some parents didn’t react well to the guy with sleeve tattoos welcoming their sons to the camp -  especially the mothers. Tyler loved his tats, and loved his job, so the two of them were non-negotiable parts of his life. He didn’t think having them made him any less good at working with kids, but obviously parents liked to think they knew best. He secured his snapback a little tighter on his head and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. There was a lull in the crowd, but he knew the hectic day would kick off again in no time.

Soon enough, an overbearing mother and an uptight father had cornered him by the registration desk, demanding to know why he wouldn’t accept their proffered package of their kid’s medicines. 

“Look, like I said, you need to take that to the nurse. It’s his responsibility to look after that stuff for your son.”

“But you’re his camp counsellor, I don’t understand, you will be with him all the time, why can’t  _you_ take it?”

“I have 10 kids under my care, about 3 of them so far have got some sort of medication to take, and that’s not including your son. I can’t keep all of that safe and administered properly all on my own.”

The father - sweating away in a ridiculous golf shirt, beige pants and loafers -  barged in at the point, “Well why not? My god, what are we paying for if a counsellor can’t remember four bits of medicine to give to four kids?”

Tyler held in his sigh as best as he could, “It’s actually pretty hard, and it’s not the sort of thing I want to get wrong. It’s camp rules: take your son’s medication to the nurse, he will collect all the information he needs, store it properly, and then he will let me know.”

“The queue is way too long, we’ve got to get back home, we have other things to do today you know. Some of us are pretty busy people.”

“Sir…”

The father snatched the clear plastic bag off his wife and shoved it under Tyler’s nose, “Take the goddamn inhalers, it isn’t rocket science. Or maybe it is for you. But we are  _paying_  you to look after our son for four weeks, aren’t we?” 

Tyler opened his mouth to say something poor Sid would have to spend a lot of time apologising for, when a cool hand touched his elbow and one of the other camp leaders appeared. Connor? Colin? Cameron? Tyler knew him from their last few days of camp counsellor bonding shit, but they hadn’t crossed paths much and Tyler was truly terrible at names. All he knew was that he was cute, blonde, and had eyes to drown in.

“Tyler, Sid wanted to speak to you pretty urgently.”

Tyler watched as his guardian angel wrangled himself between him and the angry couple. He had someone in tow.

“Oh, did you need the nurse?” the blonde asked, pointing at the plastic freezer bag still clenched in the father’s fist, “Here he is.” True to his word, there was Eric, looking a little bemused at being dragged away from what he was doing. He automatically took the medications from the Dad and turned it over his hands, “Inhalers? Oh sure, no problem, how often does he take them?”

The other camp leader gave Tyler a meaningful jerk of the head, and Tyler mouthed a thank you as he beat a hasty retreat. He made it up to the little kids’ circle of cabins, on his way to the staff cabin to get a drink and hide out for a moment, when he caught sight of Mitch. He’d done a number of summers with Mitch at this camp, and he’d seen how tight the younger guy had been with the blonde in induction week.

“Mitch. Hey, Mitch.”

Tyler waved a hand at him fervently until he got Mitch’s attention and peered over the porch rail at him. He had one six year old attached to his hair and another around his right leg

“Hey Tyler. You ok?”

“What’s his name again?” Tyler shout-whispered up to him. He stabbed a finger as secretly as he could over to where his saviour was finally stepping away from the nurse and the two angry parents, “C-something…”

“You mean Connor?”

“That’s it.”

“You are terrible at names dude.”

“I know, I know. Thanks. Has he worked here before?”  
  
“Couple of summers, don’t think you guys ever crossed over though. Hey, actually, he was the guy you replaced here last year. He was the idiot who arrived with a busted arm claiming it was fine, then Sid had to send him home when it turned out it was broken.”

Tyler made a noise of realisation, “Oh so  _that’s_ him.”  
  
“Yeah. He’s an old friend of mine from back home.”

Tyler turned his gaze back to where Connor was crouching down to speak to a pair of eight year old twins looking a little teary after saying goodbye to their Mom.

“Right. Thanks Mitch.”

“No problem. Do you think you could help me with…”

“Actually really sorry, I’m in the middle of something, thanks though.” Tyler waved a hand and sped off, leaving Mitch to be mauled by his new brood of kids.

Tyler breathed a huge sigh of relief as he entered the relative cool of the staff cabin. Nate and Tyson were standing at the back spending a bit too long refilling their bottles of water. Tyler shuffled them out of the way and stuck his own under the flow of the machine.

“Working hard guys?”  
  
“Shut up, no less than you. Any of your kids arrived?”  
  
“About half. I palmed them all off on Jamie and Jeff doing their crafts table thing. The parents though...seriously, if they could just mail their kids to us it’d be so much better.”

Nate chugged the last of his water and gave Tyson a nudge, “Well, if you camp leaders want to hide from some Mom and Dads for a bit longer, I need your help with something. The two pontoons need to get anchored in the right place.”

Tyson jumped off the table he’d been perched on, “Count me in, I need to get into some water before I melt.”  
  
“I think we’re going to need at least one more person.”

It didn’t surprise Tyler at all to find himself snagging Connor from a registration table and volunteering his services.

* * *

 

“I think we should just swim over there and move them into the middle, then paddle the ropes over separately.”

Tyson hummed thoughtfully, “Can’t we just swim the ropes over?”

“No, remember Nate tried that last summer and nearly drowned.”

“Oh shit, yeah.”  
  
“Surely it’d be quicker to paddle the ropes over, park the canoe, and then do the moving and anchoring.”

“It’s not about doing it quickly, it’s about doing it right.”

Tyler rolled his eyes so hard it hurt and gave Nate a shove, “My god it’s like Sid’s right here. You been practising being his protege over the winter?”

“It’d definitely be quicker to do it the first way.”

Tyler looked up to Connor, who was staring out over the water with his arms folded. The movement did great things to his biceps, and Tyler took a long moment to appreciate it. That was why he was so slow to realise what had been said.

“Er...no it won’t.”  
  
“It will.”  
  
So Connor was pretty, but that didn’t mean Tyler was going to back down.

“It really wouldn’t. You’ve got to swim all the way back to get them and the canoe, it’s a whole extra trip.”  
  
“But if you take the canoe out it’ll just drift off.”  
  
“It’s not the sea, it’s not going to go far.”  
  
“I think it’s just going to take twice as long.” 

Tyler narrowed his eyes.

“It won’t.”

Tyler heard the other guys sighing around them but he wasn’t going to take his eyes off Connor’s determined face, with his cute sunburnt nose and hair dishevelled from the heat.

“I wouldn’t try to win, Connor will think he’s right until proven wrong.”

Tyler frowned, “But I’m right.”

“You really aren’t.”

“Oh god,” Nate and Tyson sighed in unison.

“What?”  
  
“Tyler you are just as bad as Connor. You can never admit when you are wrong.”

Tyler scowled and put his hands on his hips, “That’s not true.”

Tyson pointed between the two of them in disbelief, “Look at you! Both of you look the exact same!”

It was true. Both of them had their feet planted firmly on the ground, their hands on their hips, identical looks of stubborness on their face.

“It’s the only way to do it,” Connor said, directly to Tyler this time, pointing out to the unmoored and lost pontoons with a defiant stab of his finger.

“You’re wrong.” Tyler couldn’t help but flutter his eyelashes a little, “You’re cute, but you’re not that smart.”

He didn’t fail to notice the blush that sprang up Connor’s neck.   
  
Nate held his hands out placatingly, “Ok, as the activities manager and therefore sort-of owner of these pontoons, let me propose something. You guys each have to get one of the pontoons in their right place, and moored, and whoever it does first I will the beers for when we get a night off. Because I still have nightmares about what happened last year when I tried to do it.”  
  
Connor and Tyler exchanged a look. God Connor looked hot when he was cross.

“Deal.”  
  
“Yeah, fine by me.”

Tyler was delighted. They made their way to the little dock that jutted out into the huge lake that the camp sat snuggly around. The minute the first day of camp was over this lake would be a hive of activity - canoeing, swimming, water trampolining, water assault courses, it was all ready and waiting for the kids to get settled in. The two pontoons made up the central point of the lake feature. They were the marker for canoe contests, a challenge for swimmers to reach, and a great place for tired camp workers to drink a beer in the middle of the night when in need of a break.

The pair were instructed to get the pontoons safely into their centre position, moor them, and get back to the pier. The first one to put their hand on the pier when it was all complete would be the winner. Tyler stripped down to his underwear without a moment’s hesitation. The kids were all up in the woods being entertained by the brave camp counsellors who manned the arrival day activity tables, and it was unlikely a parent had the eagle eye to see down to the water and what he was wearing. Connor didn’t hesitate either, and Tyler took a moment to admire the view as he stretched at the very end of the pier. Connor had surprisingly broad shoulders that tapered into a narrow waist and long skinny legs. There was more sunburn across his shoulders and collarbone, and a really attractive tangle of hair pointing down below the waistband of his briefs. It was… a look. Tyler tried not to stare and instead did a bit of posturing as he stretched himself out. He knew he looked good, and the summer sun had fortunately given him a healthy brown all over. It was just in his nature to try to peacock around this guy he had quite suddenly and fiercely found so attractive.

“This is a race guys, not the swimwear round of the Mr Summer Camp pageant. You ready? Three, two, one.”

Tyler couldn’t help it, he gave Connor a shove backwards before he dived under the water, and felt the white-hot burn of his skin against his fingertips even as the lake engulfed him. He was tingling from his toes to his scalp when he reared his head out of the water. He took in a great big gulp of summer air and couldn’t help grinning. He loved the summer. He loved working at camps, he loved leaving behind everything that was dreary and cold about the rest of the year. He loved working his body in ways that made him ache that didn’t include pounding on a treadmill or heaving weights in a sweaty gym. He wanted this summer to go like all of his other camp seasons had gone - get a tan, sleep like a log, have fun with the kids, swim as much as possible, and maybe make out with a cute camp leader.

But right now, he had a bet to win.

* * *

 

Tyler dragged the last rope into position. He had way too much water up his nose and in his ears but he was there, nearly there, and he could hear Connor gasping not far from him, also doing the last few things needed to keep the pontoon secure. He tugged the rope and felt it snap to its tightest position, and immediately launched back into the lake. It was almost there, free beer, so close. And then Connor came into view. The guy had a good front crawl. Tyler tried his best but he ended up a whole ten seconds behind Connor, and by the time he dragged himself back onto the pier he was victorious and beaming.

“Fuck!”  
  
“Told you,” Connor said through his panting. He was spread eagle on the wood, legs splayed.His boxers had stuck to his person in a way that made Tyler bite his lip. But still. He lost, and that sucked.

“My way was just as fast!”  
  
“Yeah, you’re just a slower swimmer,” Tyson beamed.

A voice that sounded decidedly pissed off cracked through their little bubble, “What the hell are you doing?!”

They all turned to see Sid, the camp manager and ultimate boss, standing with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face at the other end of the pier.

“We were doing the pontoons!” Nate called, pointing out to the lake. Sid crooked a finger at him and the other guys ‘oooohed’ low enough for Sid not to hear.

“You’re in trouble now.”  
  
“Shut up.”

They shuffled their way to the shore, Tyler and Connor putting their clothes back on as they went. Sid looked them up and down.   
  
“What happened?”  
  
“We thought we’d help out.”  
  
“You’re in your underwear.”  
  
“It was an emergency.”  
  
Sid put his fingers to the pressure points between his eyes and sighed, “Tyler, Tyson, Connor, go back to welcoming the kids. Nate, come with me.”  
  
Once Nate had slouched off behind Sid, Tyler turned to Connor and held out a hand.

“Fair enough. Good race.”

Connor looked down at his hand, then up at him, and a slow grin appeared on his lips, “Yeah. Thanks. You were a worthy opponent.” They shook hands and Connor grinned a little brighter, “Too bad you can’t swim fast enough.”

They slid on their shoes and clothes and started the hike back up into the trees towards the entrance gate. They welcomed kids for the rest of the afternoon, and Tyler enjoyed sitting next to Connor on the log benches as night fell whilst overseeing the first campfire night. The heat of the fire was fierce, and he burnt from his shoulder to his hip where he and Connor remained plastered against each other, administering marshmallow melting advice when needed. 

* * *

 

Connor had got the Ash cabin, half of the 11 to 13 year old male contingent at camp this summer. Tyler was secretly pleased he’d got Bay, the other half of the same age group, because this age was the best. They weren’t the sullen, too-cool killjoys of teenagers, and they still had the first flush of hormones that made them do stupid things. They had crushes and flirted terribly with the girls in the nearby camp at their end of summer party, but still smushed dirt in each other’s faces and pretended to be dinosaurs that needed to be rounded up before they escaped Jurassic Park. They doused themselves in cologne and wore too-tight shirts to evening parties, but Tyler still had to deal with tears at night, and long calls to home on the staff office phone whilst Tyler made them a hot coco.  Plus, the Bay cabin stood the edge of the forest and was the least suffocating in the midsummer heat.

Just like every other year he had worked at a camp, Tyler was exhausted by the time lights-out came around. He’d dealt with some tears, one argument about bunk decorations that nearly came to blows, and a lot of hyperactive almost-thirteen year olds. He was meant to sit on the porch outside his cabin until he was sure everyone was asleep. With it being the first night, and all of the energy from the meet-n-greet bonfire and its s'mores coursing through them, it was going to be a while. He settled back in his chair, tapped his phone awake, and got lost in the world of Candy Crush.

He’d completed god knows how many levels, gone into the cabin twice to gently remind boys that lights out meant  _every_  light out - yes that includes your phone torch, Zach - and had a numb ass when he heard a whispered ‘hey’ through the darkness. It was actually pretty dark around camp at night. They wanted to give kids a ‘real rural experience’ - at least according to the website - so the lights at night were minimal to give city kids an idea of the true darkness. That meant a small light over the administration hut were all that offered vision once the sun dropped. Every counsellor and camp leader had a torch that became their best friends when moving around after the kids’ bedtime. Tyler had no idea who was whispering, and to who, but his ears perked up to the noise.

“Psst. Tyler.”

“Yeah?” Tyler asked, still clueless as to who it was. A torchlight came to life and the crunch of shoes on the clearing floor got closer.

“Oh, hey Connor.”

“Your lot asleep?”

“Eventually. First day excitement.”

Connor stepped up onto the porch of the Bay cabin and the moonlight started to pick out the features of his face. His nose looked even cuter in the half-dark.

“You want a chance to redeem yourself after this afternoon?”

He flashed a pack of cards into Tyler’s torchlight. Tyler made a noise with the second chair on the porch and Connor guided himself into the seat.

“Not a whole lot of confidence there, Connor.”

“I’m really bad at cards, you’ll rinse me. But I’ve got to practice.”

Tyler chuckled, “How about we just play for no money?”

He heard Connor pull up the little side table Tyler had balanced his water on. The sound of a deck of cards hitting the tabletop was unmistakable.

“Really?”

“Why not?”

“I heard things about you and card games, Seggy.”

Connor called Tyler ‘Seggy’ did funny things to him. This was interesting, Tyler thought, with a silent sigh that was half exasperated and half fond.

“Who’ve you been speaking to?”

“Mitch.”

“Don’t listen to anything that squirt tells you.”

Connor giggled. The sound made Tyler grin in the dark.

“Mitch is just bad at cards and a sore loser.”

“Believe me, I know.  We were at camp together as kids. It got closed down and we did one summer here, then after college we both decided to start working our summers here.”

“So you guys are friends?”

“Since we were six.”

“Poor you.”

Tyler caught sight of Connor’s smirk in halo of light cast around the torch beam. They played a few hands of bullshit, rummy and one doomed game of a poker two-person hybrid they made up on the spot.

Eventually Tyler’s eyes were too heavy to see the cards through the gloom. Their torchlight seemed to have dimmed to nothing, and the light of the moon and stars had taken over. It made the high points of Connor’s cheekbones glow. Definitely time for bed. They parted ways, Tyler going into the Bay cabin and Connor back over the leafy clearing floor to his own.

Tyler had been sleeping in this bunk for three nights before, but this was the first time with the sound of 10 kids through the wall. At least he had a little bit of privacy as he stripped off his shirt and crawled into bed in just his shorts. Each cabin had this little entrance way when you first entered - it was a dumping ground for the detritus that kids generated: shoes, jackets, water bottles, baseball caps. That took up the whole left hand side, offering a place to shuck off trainers and wipe hands clean before entering the main cabin area. But to the right was a curtain, and behind that the camp counsellor’s bunk. It was an odd set up, but Tyler liked it. The wall was just a thin sheet of plasterboard so he could hear if anything was going on with the campers, but it offered the kids a feel of giddy camp freedom, and Tyler a chance to snore with his mouth open and not get filmed by smuggled iPhones. The bathrooms were off the main cabin though, in a long corridor-shaped room.

At least the rule about darkness outside mean that camp owners were kind enough to build toilets and sinks into the structure. Showers were in a concrete block over by the small kids’ cabins, but all Tyler needed was to splash cold water on his face, brush his teeth, take a piss, then tiptoe back through the huffing breath of 10 tired pre-teens and slip into his bunk. He thought he’d considered Connor for a while, before he slept, the surprisingly hard curve of his arms against the softness of his hair and face and grin. But he might have just been dreaming, because he didn’t remember even pulling the blanket over himself after lying down.

* * *

  


**Week 2 - It continues**

 

Nate was apparently ‘completely sick’ of camp food. That meant that on their first 24 hour break, he, Mitch, Connor and Tyler were off to find something different. They ended up in a bar a little too long a drive from camp, but they’d been there before and the chicken wings made them all cry happy tears.

“So good,” Nate moaned into his second bowl of chicken wings.

“Do we need to leave you two alone?” Mitch asked, wiping his hands clean after demolishing a whole bowl of wings himself.

Connor appeared with another round of beers and squeezed in next to Tyler in their booth. This was their third round - Nate having graciously taken over buying every beer for Connor, what with the bet and all. Tyler was feeling deliciously tipsy and more than a little rowdy.

The vinyl booth was tacky and hot to touch, and tipped under their body weight. It meant that Connor was pressed up against him from his shoulder to his toes, his t-shirt snagged a little against Tyler’s so that his collarbone was exposed. The only thing that Tyler didn’t like about this situation was that he wasn’t in a position to stare at his slowly-tanning skin now on show.

Tyler downed a huge mouthful of beer to help wash away the overwhelming taste of barbecue sauce. “Anyone wanna to play pool?” he asked. He thought that if he didn’t do something he might vibrate right out of his skin.

They played game after game, piling on the beers and chicken wings as the night went on. By the sixth game it was just Connor and Tyler left playing, determined not to leave it a draw.

“Guys, we have to get a cab back soon. Hurry up.”

Tyler sank a ball and whooped.

“No way, McDavid here is a few minutes away from owing me a new plate of chicken wings.”

Mitch groaned and rolled his head all the way back until it thunked against the wall, “You’re tied. And I think we’ve eaten all of the chicken wings in this whole place. Let’s just go back.”

Connor pulled his pool cube back too hard and jabbed Mitch in the ribs with it, “Be quiet and let me concentrate.”  
  
Tyler ended up winning. When he turned to what he imagined to be his adoring fans, he found no-one.

“Hey, where’d they go?”

“Did they just fucking  _leave_ us here?”  
  
Connor pulled out his phone, “I have a text from Mitch. It says ‘you were being boring, we went back, see you tomorrow.’” Connor opened his mouth to read more but stopped, blushed, stuttered a little then put his phone away, “So...yeah, they left us.”

“What dicks.”  
  
They ended up drowning their sorrows at the bar whilst they waited for one of the two cabs in town to become available. Tyler put his hand on Connor’s knee as he leant over him to pay for their drinks, and Connor didn’t make any movement to remove it. It ended up staying there until the barman pointed out the cab driver waiting for them at the door.

They piled into the back seat and Connor slurred out the address.

“Hey, hey,” Tyler said, punching Connor on the shoulder, “You didn’t buy me more chicken wings.  
  
“I bought you booze.”  
  
“You still owe me chicken wings.”

The only lights Tyler could see by were the ones on the car dashboard and meter, illuminating just the hollow of Connor’s eyes and his cupid’s bow.

“Hm. Well, maybe we can find another way to settle the deal.”

Tyler felt the car turn and he slid slightly towards Connor on the backseat. He briefly thought he should maybe plug in his seatbelt, but then Connor’s head tilted towards him and he felt the touch of his fingers against his where they splayed on the middle seat.

Then the cab driver slapped on the brakes, and Tyler head-butted the passenger seat.

“ _Ow_ , fuck!”  
  
“Sorry. We’re here.”  
  
They had indeed parked up outside the camp gates, the headlights lighting the entrance way and sign hand-painted by last year’s campers. Tyler blinked trying to get control of himself. Connor looked back at him, blinking owlishly in the lights that flooded the car. The cab driver made a meaningful coughing noise and the spell was broken.

“Er, yeah, sorry, here you go.”

The boys shuffled a handful of notes out of their pockets and just about managed to scrape together the fare. After the cab driver had left the pair found themselves standing under the entry sign in the chilly summer night.

“You OK?” Tyler asked, feeling Connor move away from him slightly.   
  
“I feel weird.”  
  
“Oh. Oh...sorry, I mean, if you-”

That was when Connor bent double and threw up in the bushes. Turned out copious amount of beer and chicken wings weren’t good for McDavid’s sensitive stomach.

* * *

  
**Week 3 - It becomes a thing**

 

Tyler loved this year’s batch of kids, but they were a nosey bunch.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” one asked, loudly, in the middle of their inter-cabin sleepover.

The Ash and Bay cabins were all piled on the floor of Bay cabin, a big tangle of sleeping bags and blankets. They’d just watched a movie, projected onto a bed sheet pinned up the back wall, and they were now all delving in pizza boxes. It was supposed to be an open kind of night, where the two counsellors for the two halves of the age group munched pizza, talked about anything they fancied, and could ask their counsellors anything. It turned out they were all currently obsessed with whether Connor and Tyler had girlfriends.

“No, no I don’t.”

“What about you Connor?”  
  
“Not right now. I broke up with my girlfriend just after Christmas.”  
  
“Why do you not have one, Tyler?”  
  
Tyler took a big bite of pizza and took a bit of time chewing it, “Er, well, I haven’t really found anyone I like yet.”  
  
Outright denial was better than trying to explain bisexuality to a bunch of hyperactive twelve year olds with uptight parents. He saw Connor trying to hide his smile behind a slice of pizza.

“You mean you don’t know how to get a girlfriend?” one of the louder kids - big, stocky Matthew Williams - jeered around a mouthful of pizza.

“Yeah Tyler, do you not know how to get a girlfriend?” Connor chipped in. He was wearing a distressingly tight and faded vintage Toronto Maple Leafs t-shirt from the 80s, and was snuggled up to his hips in a dark blue sleeping bag. He was propped against one of the kids bunks and munching cheerily on the pizza, the look in his eyes somewhere between mischievous and devious. He had recovered from his vomiting the previous night, claiming food poisoning, though Tyler was pretty sure the beer had something to do with it too. Tyler promised not to tell anyone about it. In his eyes Connor had only gotten even cuter.

“It’s easy,” Matthew Williams barrelled on, knowing he had the full attention of his bunkmates, “First, you’ve got to ask them their name. Then you’ve got to look them up and down, all the way, and tell them they look hot.”

Tyler grimaced a little. He could see where this conversation was going, and it was one of the downsides of being in charge of the 11-13 year olds.  

“Then, you kiss them. And French kiss them, properly, with tongue and everything. Girls love that.”  
  
The other boys were a mixture of incredulous, sceptical and downright terrified.

“Shut up Matt, bet you’ve never even kissed a girl.”  
  
“What do you know, Ben?”  
  
“Tyler, have you kissed a girl? Even if you don’t have a girlfriend?”  
  
“Er, yeah, I have.”  
  
“What do you think? Do girls like tongue? Connor, do they?”  
  
One of the rowdier boys, with an older brother and all of the confidence of an almost-13 year old, made an obscene gesture with his hand.

“It’s true, girls like tongue. Just not in their mouths.”  
  
The cabin erupted. By the time Tyler and Connor had got them all to calm down and to stop talking about girls and tongues, all the pizza was gone. The end of the night couldn’t come soon enough, Tyler thought as he finally laid his head down on a pillow a couple of hours later. They were all meant to sleep on the floor, but he knew a few of his boys had tiptoed back into their bunks. The topic of girls had come up a few more times, but thankfully the conversation had stayed a clean PG-13. He glanced across at where Connor was wriggling out of his sleeping bag and heading towards the bathroom. He glanced back at him briefly before he got to the door. There was a sleepy, soft smile on his face. Tyler watched the door shut behind him then let out a long sigh.

Tyler thought about following him. Most of the kids were asleep, and he had this vibration thrumming right underneath his skin that told him he needed finally to just  _say_ something to Connor about….this. Whatever it was. This flirting and touching and meaningful glances was one thing but Tyler was nothing if a man of action.

He was about to get up to follow Connor to the bathroom but someone started whispering his name. “Tyler? Tyler?”  
  
“Yeah? You OK Scott?”  
  
“I need to talk to you about something.”

Tyler knew there were a few things that could mean, and wasn’t surprised when it involved a wet sleeping bag and a tearful eleven year old Scott begging him to be quiet. Scott had an ‘interesting’ home life and he’d been coming to the camp for years, and wetting the bed at least once a week. Tyler balled up the sleeping bag as quietly as he could and ushered Scott into the bathroom. They almost barrelled into Connor on the way out.

“Everything ok?”  
  
“Scott just needs to get himself sorted out. Can you help a minute?”  
  
So he didn’t end up having a discussion of whatever their  _thing_ was with Connor that night. Instead he spent the early hours sorting out sleeping bag and pyjamas covered in pee. He’d given up and gone to bed by the time Scott was sorted, but the Camp gods weren’t smiling on him or Connor that night. The hours from 2am to 4am were spent with skinny, allergic-to-everything James throwing up into his lap. Then a boy waking up to the smell and throwing up himself. And then the rest of the boys convinced they were all poisoned and going to die.

“No-one is going to die, ok, James just doesn’t feel very well and Max just threw up because he saw James do it. You’re all fine.”

“Maybe we have ebola. Vomiting is a sign of ebola.”

And that was how Tyler found himself covered in vomit and shouting, “No-one has ebola!” at 4am.

 

* * *

 

Tyler had a night off cabin duty, and he was enjoying a pizza with a few other staff members in their cabin. A fog had settled over the camp, lending it an eerie, chilly atmosphere, and he was sure someone somewhere was frightening the life out of a fellow camper with a ghost story. It wasn’t his problem though - he had his feet up, and a coco, and some pizza.

“You guys ready for the assault course at the end of the week?”  
  
Tyler took a large bite of pizza and grinned, “Of course. Bay cabin will be victorious once again.”  
  
“Oh they will, will they?”  
  
Tyler had put his legs up onto one of the vacated plastic chairs and Connor had come along and done the same. They were touching from their shins downwards, and Tyler couldn’t help the little fizz his body felt whenever Connor moved his bare skin against his own. No-one else had noticed, or if they had they had chosen not to say anything. Connor was staring at Tyler now, a challenge in his voice.

“Well, yeah, Bay cabin are best.”  
  
“Ash cabin could beat you on that assault course in half the time.”  
  
Tyler rolled his eyes, “Bullshit.”  
  
“They will. Those kids are fast, and fearless.”  
  
“Not like my lot though.”  
  
Connor narrowed his eyes, “Seriously, that assault course is ours.”  
  
“Here we go,” Jamie and Mitch said simultaneously, topping up their cocos with a dash of whiskey whilst Sid wasn’t looking.   
  
“No not ‘here we go’,” Tyler said, stabbing a finger at Connor, “This guy thinks Ash cabin can beat Bay cabin and I call bullshit.”

“Don’t swear,” Sid said, reflexively, “And come on, the end of year assault course isn’t supposed to be competitive.”

Every staff member in the cabin scoffed at the same time, loudly.

“Sid, that may be what the brochure says, but we all know it’s not true.”

“Jeff was a great bookie last year.”  
  
“Well for god’s sake don’t let any of the kids hear you making bets. The camp promises parents that they do things in a non-competitive environment.”

Mitch rolled his eyes, “Well then they hired the wrong guys to run the camp, didn’t they? Look at those two.” He pointed a finger at Tyler and Connor, “They are ready to come to blows over it.”  
  
“I just think McDavid doesn’t deliver on all these things he says he’s so definitely right about.”

Connor’s stare was seriously intense, and Tyler did his very best not to get turned on by it.

“And I think Seggy talks a lot of bullshit but never backs it up.”  
  
Tyson stood up and spread his arms in the manner of a monarch addressing his subjects, “I think we all know how to settle this summer feud. At the end-of-year assault course, Bay cabin goes up against Ash cabin. The leader of the winning team gets gloating rights. The loser has to wear the Thong of Shame and complete the course again, once the kids are gone.”

A raucous round of applause and agreeing rose up from the staff cabin.

Sid’s voice cut through the cheering: “No. No. I don’t like  _any_ of that. No way, nope.”

“Sid you are such a stick in the mud.”

“We can’t have camp leaders be nearly naked on the assault course!”

“None of the kids will be here! Lighten up.”

Sid flexed his jaw for a moment, scowling into thin air, before he finally said, “ _Fine_ . As long as no kids are left on the grounds, and no-one films it on their phones.”  
“Fine by me,” Connor grumbled.

“So that’s settled. If your team loses the race, you have to do the entire assault course wearing the thong of shame.” Nate had managed to dig out the offending article of clothing out of one of the wall lockers, and snapped it across the table at them, “Good luck.”  


* * *

 

 **Week 4 - It escalates**  


“Ok guys, remember what I said about this race?”  
  
“That no matter what happens you’ll be proud of us?”  
  
“Yes, that, but also that bit about how I need you guys to  _focus_  and to  _win_ , OK?”

Tyler had his whole cabin’s attention at the dining table as they ate their lunch, an hour before the assault course competitions were meant to begin.

The idea was that every age group split into their two cabins for a bit of friendly racing. The little ones did the short version of the assault course - it involved some egg and spoon races, hopping through hula hoops and throwing bean bags into basketball rings. But from the age of ten up, they were let loose on the huge, inflatable assault course tethered to the lake. It involved rope climbing, leaping, swinging and bouncing, and had the added peril of potentially being knocked or bounced right into the lake (hence a few of the camp leaders lazily meandering around on canoes in the water). It was supposed to be a fun way to round out the four weeks of camp before the kids headed home. It was not meant to be a competition.

“But we aren’t allowed to look like we want to win?”  
  
“Just don’t tell Sid. He wants you to go back home and tell your parents we didn’t make you compete.”  
  
Matthew folded his arms and grunted, “We can definitely beat Ash cabin. Have you seen them? They’re all, like, tiny.”

Tyler wasn’t sure his group were much better. Some of the boys had been hit pretty hard by the puberty train, but most of them still had their eight year old physique and all the hand-eye coordination of drunk seals. But if he could play off their strengths - i.e. enthusiasm - he could be within a chance of winning this.

“Look, eat your lunch and make sure you’re full of energy for the race, OK? If we don’t win this then I have to do something very embarrassing once you guys have left, and I can’t let Connor win.”

The boys all held their hands in for a secret handshake, then Tyler left them to it. He sidled over to the other end of the canteen to the bedlam that was the younger kids having their lunch.

“Hey, Mitch,” he said, trying to sound as bright and perky as possible. He slid in opposite his old friend and watched his face change to deep suspicion.

“What do you want, Tyler?”  
  
“Just wanted to know how my favourite fellow camp leader was doing.”  
  
Mitch picked up a wad of napkins and wiped the mess off the face of the boy next to him without even breaking eye contact.

“I’m not helping you win this race.”  
  
“It’s just that you are one of the stewards that has to hand us our stuff for the ring toss, so…”  
  
“I’m. Not. Helping. You. Win.”

Tyler dodged some water that a kid managed to spill from his cup and send all over the table top. “Has Connor asked you about it?”  
  
“No comment.” 

“So he has. I can’t believe it, he is such a cheat.”

“You are doing it right now! Look, I am just a steward, I’m not getting involved. And if I was going to help anyone, which I’m not, it’d be Connor. We’ve been friends since we were six.”

One of the canteen workers placed a tray of cupcakes at the end of the table and Tyler lost Mitch’s attention to trying to hand out an even number of cupcakes to each kid from his cabin. He finally got him back by hissing over the table, “Who was it who got you back to camp safely that night you ‘mixed antibiotics with alcohol’ and tried to flirt with that biker’s wife? Then threw up all over his boots?”

Mitch threw him a glare. “Alright, I get it, I owe you one. But not this. You guys are the ones who are so competitive you have been flirt-competing the last few weeks.”

Tyler tried to look outraged, “We have not been  _flirting._ ”

“Yeah, you have. I know both of you, and I know this weird competition you’ve got going is just a sexual tension thing.”

Mitch was well trained enough to mouth the word ‘sexual’ instead of say it loud, and Tyler rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might stay there.

“You are wrong,” he said, indignantly.

“What can I tell you? You aren’t that subtle a flirt. Ever since he rescued you from parents on the first day of camp.”

A little voice chirped up at Tyler’s elbow. “You wanted to know Connor’s name.”

“Huh?” was all Tyler managed. He peered down at the six year old kicking his legs against his chair and looking at the two of them thoughtfully. It appeared he had been quietly following the whole conversation.

“On our first day here. You asked Mitch what Connor’s name was. You were all red and sweating.”

“I, er, no I don’t think I was.”

“But I  _saw_ you.”

“Yeah ok kid, here have a cupcake.” Tyler picked up a cupcake, shoved it into the six year old’s mouth and left the table, Mitch’s indignant squawking following him.  

* * *

 

“Any last words?” Nate asked, affixing the crown to Tyler’s head. It was a stupid tradition that the camp leader had to wear a crown whilst he did their section of the relay race on the assault course. It made them an easier target for the water guns and anything not nailed down that the rest of camp were allowed to throw at them to impede their race. The Ash and Bay cabins were up next, and the other kids was sat on the edge of the lake watching. It was the day before everyone went home and the energy and excitement were palpable. Tyler gave the crown a tug so that it sat neater over his hair.

“Connor can kiss my ass.”

Nate slapped a hand onto his shoulder, “Let’s keep the sexual advances until  _after_ the race, shall we?”

He turned away before Tyler could protest and bellowed over the lake, “OK, Ash and Bay cabins have selected their four racers and their leader to race. The first cabin who has all racers complete the assault course wins.” Sid gave Nate one of his patented Crosby-The-Camp-Leader Looks, and the younger man added, “There are no prizes for winning, we just want you all to have fun. Line up guys!”

Tyler assembled his four racers in front of him whilst the others whooped and cheered from behind Nate. Connor was right beside him, flexing his arms and getting his own gang into order.

“Good luck,” he said, that smug smirk that Tyler had come to fall in love with on his face.

“Yeah, you too. I heard the burn from inflatables on your junk is pretty nasty.” 

Connor opened his mouth to retort but Nate blew his whistle, and the first two kids sprinted down the dock towards the entrance into the massive inflatable assault course.

It was a close, tense race. One of Tyler’s boys had fallen off early on, but managed to claw his way back up, and later one of Connor’s racers had got totally stuck on the ring toss and allowed Tyler’s team to get ahead. By the time the whistle went for Connor and Tyler - the final two competitors each resplendent in their cheap plastic crowns - the two teams were neck and neck.

Tyler hauled ass down to the water’s edge and his whole cabin whooped like wild things as he launched himself onto the inflatable wall that made up the first challenge.

He was glad for all of the working out he did throughout the winter, and all of the endless hours of exercise camp required of him. He got himself up to the top first, but took a little longer to get his feet on the rope swing and launch. Connor landed first, bouncing on all fours like a cat on a bouncy castle. They both scrambled towards the balance beam at the same time, and took it with speed. The whole lake was shouting and spraying as much as they could from the lakeside. Tyler got hit with a particularly strong jet of water and nearly fell from one of the three bouncy balls they had to navigate. He looked across and saw Connor slipping, the unmistakable squeak of plastic against skin.

“You’ll look good in a thong!” he hollered at him from the final ball and danced across the final gap with just an inch stopping him from plummeting to the water. He heard Connor swear like a sailor as he only just about made his landing a good ten seconds behind Tyler.

Mitch was waiting at the ring toss section. He had his lips clamped shut as Tyler yelled at him to hurry up giving him the rings.

Annoyingly he lost his mojo at this point. Connor was a demon with the hand eye coordination and completed it without a mistake - gaining back the time from the bouncy ball fiasco as Tyler missed and then missed again.

“Fuck!” Tyler yelled and headed off at full sprint towards the top of the slide.

“Don’t swear,” he heard Mitch sigh, but he was too far gone. He and Connor hit the top of the slide at the exact same time and both launched themselves into thin air without a thought. It was a long, painful way down, Tyler thought as he bounced and ricocheted towards the water. They both hit the surface of the lake with a splash and then paddled furiously to the shore. Tyler knew that Connor had a good front crawl but he had taken longer to resurface from the impact with the water. And suddenly, Tyler was there, at the pontoon, and Jamie had a hand down to help haul him out of the water. His team were cheering and jumping up and down in their sodden clothes.

And so was Connor’s.

“It’s a draw,” Sid announced, making sure his voice carried across the water. Both teams silenced in an instant.

“ _What_ ?” 

“No, Sid, Tyler totally won that.”

“Connor was just before Tyler, we saw it, his hand hit the pontoon first.”

“That’s not how it works, Tyler was out of the water first.”

“Sid wasn’t waiting to pull Connor up yet, it’s not fair.”

It was ruled a draw. Both cabins slunk back to shore and watched the rest of the assault course races in mutinous, rumbling silence. Tyler sprawled on his back so that the sun could dry off his clothes, and let his cabin mutter bitterly to themselves.

“Why can’t there be a winner? We’re not  _babies_ .” 

When the whole camp had had their turn on the assault courses, the kids were sent off to dry and get changed and pack for their parents arrival the next day. That night there was a campfire get together, s'mores and singing and stories galore. It was one of Tyler’s favourite nights of camp, signalling the start of a well deserved break before the next wave of terrors arrived.

He had a shower then corralled all of his boys into decent shirts and their nice pairs of shorts or trousers for the event. He herded them out of the cabin, and the group met the Ash cabin on their way down to the amphitheatre where the campfire was taking place.

Connor gave Tyler a somewhat sheepish grin as their two groups mingled and headed down the darkened path towards the racket of the end of camp party.

“Well done on the race.”

“Yeah. You too. At least neither of us have to embarrass ourselves in the Thong of Shame.”

Connor laughed, his face brightly lit by the moon and the light of the fire down the path.

“I guess that ended the best way possible.”

“Yeah. I think so.”

They headed down to make sure their two cabins were sitting where they were meant to. They sat down next to each other on the benches and passed out the ingredients for s'mores to their cabins with their shoulders and hips pressed against each other.

All Tyler could do was grin and reign in his imagination. The kids were leaving tomorrow, giving them a few days of blissful peace getting the campsite ready for the next lot to arrive. It was a time that the camp leaders used to get drunk, swim in the lake and catch up on some much needed sleep - and perhaps a bit of work here and there. Tyler could feel the burning heat under his skin as Connor pressed a little closer to him. Maybe, if he had read this right, he and Connor could get to know each other in the kind of way he’d been imagining every night in his bunk since Connor had rescued him from those snotty parents.

The s'mores were well underway when Tyler felt a huge hand clap down onto his shoulder, and Sid appeared in between him and Connor.

“Hello.”

“Oh, Sid, hey.”

“Just to let you know, the race didn’t actually end in a draw.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t a draw.” Sid squeezed Tyler’s shoulder, “Tyler, you won. By a few seconds, but you did it.”

Connor’s mouth dropped open as Tyler’s own began to gape, “What the hell?”

“I didn't want to say it in front of the kids, a draw would make them both happy, but thought I’d let you guys now.”

He shook them hard enough that their heads banged together and left them to it. Tyler prodded Connor in the side.

“I told you, I  _told_ you I was faster.”

“Oh god,” Connor all but howled into his hands, “I have to wear that... _thing_ .” 

Tyler left Connor to mourn his dignity and tell every other camp staff member in the area that he was in fact the winner.

He came back after half an hour with a couple of hot dogs from the BBQ.

“Here,” he said, handing it to Connor, “I didn’t know what relish you liked so I just put both on there.”

Connor took the hotdog, but he looked tense.

“You OK? I know losing hurts man.”

Connor sighed but laughed a little, “No that’s not it. I just... _really_ didn’t want to have to wear that thing.”

Tyler frowned into his hot dog. Across the campfire, Mitch and Tyson were making gestures to let Connor know that they had indeed heard of his loss. Tyler watched Connor try to laugh it off, but by the time they’d herded the kids to bed he had made a decision.

* * *

 

The second that the last car headed down the driveway, the camp staff were off to the assault course.

“Where’s Connor?”

“Getting dressed. Or, undressed I guess.”

“Where’s Tyler?”

He still hadn’t been located by the time Connor was down at the lakeside. He stood at the entrance to the inflatable assault course determinedly wearing a pair of shorts over the Thong of Shame and giving anyone shit who tried to tell him he had to remove them ahead of the race. He really, really didn’t want to do this - his body language made that clear.

When Tyler finally reached the start line, Connor was red from his navel to his hairline.

“Hurry up,” he told Tyler, not able to look him in the eye, “Apparently I can’t start until you’re here.”

“Keep your thong on,” Tyler grinned. He knew he was being a little shit, but hopefully what he was about to do would make up for it.

Connor frowned at him, “Don’t you want to go up onto the bank so you can see more?”

“I’m OK down here.”

Mitch called from the bank, “OK Connor, take it off!”

Connor grumbled something under his breath and dropped his shorts. Tyler couldn’t help the laughter that erupted out of him.

“Shut up,” Connor hissed, doing his best to keep down his blush. He was trying to be a good sport but obviously failing. This is why Tyler hoped his plan would work.

Mitch blew his whistle and Connor made to start. Tyler unzipped his shorts and dropped them too.

“What the hell?!” Connor all but screeched. He had turned around at the base of the first climb, working out how the hell to get up there without all of the skin on show, and heard the whoops and jeers that came up from the bank, “Why are you... _naked_?”

Tyler leapt onto the inflatable course and put a hand to the wall, “I think it really was a draw, no matter what Sid said. And, well, there isn’t a second Thong of Shame, so I thought I’d just go the full mile.”

Connor tried to get a response out but had to bend double with laughter.

“Fucking exhibitionist!” someone hollered from offshore.

“You’re gonna get burns on your dick you idiot!”

“No Jamie, Tyson, put your phones away!”

Connor finally came up for air, “Thank you, Tyler.”

“For what?”

Connor gave him a lopsided smile, “You know for what.”

“Don’t know what you are talking about. It was a draw. And it really doesn’t take much incentive for me to get my clothes off.”

“No, I can, er...see that.”

“Well come on then, let’s do this race again. I can definitely beat you totally naked.”

“You wish.”

Connor launched his way up the wall, and Tyler scrambled after him.

Connor did win, in the end. The first thing he did was yank his shorts back on. The first thing Sid did was beg Tyler to put some - any - clothes back on. It was decided that Tyler’s ultimate punishment would be to clean the wet room, including sluicing down the rows of rank wetsuits.

* * *

 

That night Connor and Tyler disappeared from the staff campfire, and no-one bothered to look for them. No-one wanted to know who won that particular round.


End file.
